


Don't You Remember?

by reminiscingintherain



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1D Break Up Fest, ALL THE ANGST, Breakup Fic, Eventual Reconciliation, M/M, Songfic, but like, excessive use of Adele's songs, it's really obvious what's going to happen, potentially open ended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29745693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminiscingintherain/pseuds/reminiscingintherain
Summary: Harry slammed the door behind him and immediately pressed his face into his hands, before dropping them back to his sides and staring blankly at the wall.Louis had gone.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Michal Mlynowski/Gemma Styles
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38
Collections: 1d Breakup Fic Fest





	Don't You Remember?

**Author's Note:**

> OMG IT'S FINALLY DONE.
> 
> Huge thanks and apologies go to the wonderful mods of this fest for being so incredibly patient with me as I forced this out, word by painful word, between lectures and learning how to catch babies.
> 
> Extra thanks goes to [Anitra](https://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/) for repeatedly reading over this and telling me that I'm definitely on the right track (while also yelling at me for more - which was definitely required encouragement!!).
> 
> This is definitely the most angsty thing I've ever written, and I've taken great pleasure in unashamedly basing it all on Adele's discography.
> 
> Completely unbetaed, so any and all mistakes are mine alone.
> 
> Find the [Spotify playlist here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/40zrqL1bi82BwwdROaxvWs?si=n9DVKLCQQkue7luemC1uew).

_When will I see you again?  
You left with no goodbye, not a single word was said  
No final kiss to seal anything  
I had no idea of state we were in_

Harry slammed the door behind him and immediately pressed his face into his hands, before dropping them back to his sides and staring blankly at the wall.

Louis had gone. In a whirlwind, without even saying anything to Harry. His mum had been so apologetic when Harry had called around – at the time they’d agreed only the day before – and realised that Louis hadn’t told him what was happening.

“He’s gone to London,” Jay’s words echoed in his memory. “He got signed by Island Records. He’s gone to record an album.” The pride was evident in her voice, even as it was tinged with regret over her son’s actions. “He, uh. He told me you knew everything.”

“He lied.” Harry’s tone had been as flat as he’d felt.

He didn’t say anything else, and hadn’t wanted to listen to anymore from Jay, so had turned away and slowly made the three road walk back home.

Harry didn’t know how long he’d stood in the middle of his room. He didn’t notice the passing of time. Barely noticed it getting dark. Was only distantly aware of his stomach starting to protest at the lack of food.

A gentle knock on the door didn’t register at all. It was only when the knocking became insistent and louder that he blinked slowly and moved. He turned and leaned over, pulling the door open.

“Harry,” his mum murmured. “I spoke to Jay.”

Those five words were all it took.

Harry promptly dropped to his knees as he burst into loud, messy sobs. Anne clucked softly and knelt with him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she started to rock him slowly.

“It’s okay, baby,” she whispered. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re strong, my darling. You can get through this.”

“I don’t know how,” he managed to choke out.

“One day at a time, my love, one day at a time.”

💔💔💔💔💔

“Go again,” the producer interrupted.

“Mate, I’d barely started,” Louis protested weakly.

“You were off,” the producer shrugged. “We don’t have time to waste on duff notes.” He sighed softly. “You can do it, Louis. I’ve heard you. Just take a breath, take a moment, and then we’ll go again.”

Louis scrubbed his hands over his face with a nod. He’d arrived in London five days before, and it had been non-stop ever since. With his luggage ensconced in a hotel room, paid for by the record label, he’d barely glanced around it before he’d been ushered to the nearest studio. A guitar had been pressed into one hand, a notebook and pen in the other, and a request to jot down his latest ideas within ten minutes had left Louis’ head spinning wildly. But he’d done as he was told, playing the odd chord and noting down random words, which had somehow ended up in a series of phrases, so that by the time he’d been checked on, he had half a song and a scattering of chords.

JC, the producer (“it’s actually Brian, but artists tend to mutter ‘Jesus Christ’ under their breath when they see me cos I’m a perfectionist, so JC stuck as a nickname”), had glanced over what Louis had warily handed over and immediately done a double take.

“Holy shit, mate,” he’d muttered. “Get in the damn chair, let’s see what we can make of this.”

That had been the first day, and Louis had seen his hotel room a grand total of twice since then – when he’d eventually escaped for sleep and a shower. But they had three songs in demo form, and another two drafted.

And on calling home, instead of understanding and caring and excitement from the family, he’d had the shit ripped out of him by his mum for not telling Harry about the whole damn thing.

Harry.

Louis sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling of the recording booth. If he was being completely honest with himself, that was the main source of his distress. This song, the one he was trying to record, was about Harry in every way, but also in no way at all. While some of it was reflective of what he wanted to say, most of it was what he wished he wanted to say but didn’t even remotely feel.

_Excuse me first love, but we’re through, I need to taste a kiss from someone new…_

Louis ran his fingers lightly over the words on the page in front of him, then closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself together, before he nodded through the window at JC.

“Okay everyone,” JC called. “First Love, take four.”

💔💔💔💔💔

_A year later_

‘Ladies and gentlemen of the United Kingdom, your number one this week, Chasing Pavements by Louis Tomlins—’

Harry shut off the radio, cutting off the sounds of Scott Mills’ excited announcement of the new chart number one and running a hand through his hair. He glanced around the small flat he was currently sat in.

His flat. In London.

The year had been a rollercoaster, beginning with the heartbreak and devastation of Louis’ abandonment of their relationship, whirling through Gemma sneakily recording his attempts at songwriting and sending them off to labels in London, to being signed by XL Recordings and moving south to start recording.

In that time, he could barely turn the radio on without hearing the raspy tones of his ex-boyfriend singing about being glad to have ended a relationship and moving on. Which only spurred him on to write more bitter songs, which seemed to appeal to the label, who wanted him to record and release as soon as possible.

Harry looked down at the notepad in his hand, adding a few words here and there, before he grabbed his jacket and wallet, and left the flat quickly, making his way down the road to the pokey little studio that had become his refuge for the past three weeks.

“Harry!” came the enthusiastic greeting of the producer. “You made it!”

“Hey, JC,” Harry smiled softly. “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad,” JC nodded. “Got myself a nice bonus for the number one, so I’m happy today.”

Harry froze slightly as he hung his jacket on the hook behind the door, before he turned to look at JC.

“You worked with Louis Tomlinson?” he asked, his voice slightly wavering.

“Yeah,” JC confirmed. “He’s a top bloke. Worked on his whole album, just me and him. He’s got some solid ideas. Bit like you, stylistically.”

“I don’t think so,” Harry quickly disagreed. “We’re completely different.”

“Nah,” JC shook his head. “You both write straight from the heart. Comes out in every word. It’s a wonderful thing to witness. And you can both come up with the bare bones of a song in an impressively short amount of time. I wish all of my artists were as efficient as you two.” He paused for a moment, eyeing Harry speculatively. “We may have to see about getting you two on a duet or collaboration at some point.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Harry mumbled. “Think we’re too different.”

“Eh, you might be right,” JC shrugged. “Let’s get your first album done and out, before we start worrying about collaborations. Should be about you first.” He grinned. “So, what’ve you got for me today?”

Harry hummed quietly under his breath for a few beats, before he started to sing softly.

 _“Go ahead, go ahead and smash it on the floor, take whatever is left and take it with you out the door, see if I cry, see if I shed a single sorry tear, can’t say it’s been that great, no, in fact it’s been a wasted worried year,”_ Harry managed, forcing a smile as he finished.

“Wow,” JC let out a low whistle. “You really got your heart broken, didn’t you, mate?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder.

“Little bit,” he mumbled.

“Well, she’ll regret it soon enough,” JC assured him.

“He,” Harry corrected quietly. “It was a he.”

💔💔💔💔💔

_‘But we had time against us, and miles between us, the heavens cried, I know I left you speechless, but now the sky has cleared and it’s blue, and I see my future in you…’_

Louis rubbed a hand over his face with a low grumble. Lottie was curled up on the sofa, singing under her breath as she flicked through a magazine, but just loud enough that Louis could hear exactly what song it was.

“Pick another song, Lotts,” he muttered.

“I like that song,” she protested. “Harry’s really good. You really should listen to his stuff.”

“I’d really rather not,” he sighed heavily.

“Because of how it’s basically slagging you off?” Lottie suggested, raising an arch eyebrow.

“Charlotte,” he said warningly.

“Oh, come off it,” she rolled her eyes. “I know it’s our Harry, Mum’s shit at withholding her pride whenever she sees him on the telly. She does still talk to Anne, y’know.”

“I know, I know,” Louis relented. “Doesn’t mean I have to be ultra-aware of what he’s doing, does it.”

“Wait till someone works out you both grew up in the same place,” Lottie commented. “Guarantee you’ll be in the press together all the time.”

“Oh, fucking hell, I hope not,” Louis grumbled. “We’ve managed to avoid each other so far. I’d really like that to continue.” He caught sight of his sister’s expression. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m proud of him, I am. He’s doing so well, and I know that. But… I really fucked everything up with the way I left. I have no right to go anywhere near him, let alone congratulate him on his success.”

“I guess that’s a valid viewpoint,” Lottie said. “Just sucks, y’know?”

“Believe me, I know,” he said flatly.

“Why did you leave so abruptly, anyway?” she asked. “You’ve literally never told anyone.”

Louis huffed out a deep breath.

“Because,” he started slowly, feeling the enormity of what he was about to admit. “If I hadn’t, if I’d seen Harry, gone to say goodbye, I would never have gone.” He ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I would’ve said fuck the contract; I’m staying. Because there was no way I would have been able to leave him. Not like that.”

“Wow,” Lottie said quietly. “What about when it all started going right though? And why the songs about leaving a bad relationship?”

Louis chuckled softly.

“The first songs I wrote were all pining and sad,” he admitted. “My producer said it was typical teenage angst and I needed to get a grip.” He shrugged. “That was the first day. Then I found that I could twist it to be bitter and sad rather than pining and sad, and the rest is history.”

“Wow,” Lottie repeated. “So, are any of your songs actually about Harry?”

“Every damn one, Lotts,” he sighed heavily. “Every single fucking one.”

Later that night, when the lights were off and Lottie was asleep on the sofa, Louis sat in his bedroom, gazing out at the London skyline with a notebook in his lap.

_‘I love the way your body moves, towards me from across the room… baby, bring your heart, I’ll bring my soul, but be delicate with my ego, I wanna step into your great unknown, with you and me setting the tone, baby don’t let the lights go down… I miss you when the lights go out, it illuminates all of my doubts, pull me in, hold me tight, don’t let go, baby give me light…’_

He sighed heavily as he read the words back over. Talking to Lottie – it didn’t exactly bring everything back up, because it was always present in his mind anyway. But it definitely refreshed all of the feelings and emotions around his leaving Manchester, three years before. What he’d said about being proud of Harry was incredibly true, but there was an element of surprise in amongst it. Harry had never shown any sign of wanting to sing or perform – it had always been Louis’ thing, with Harry waiting in the wings to support.

He could remember the first time he’d heard Harry’s name on the radio – and knew he hadn’t misheard or misunderstood, because how the hell would the DJ have come up with _that_ by accident? Louis had been on his way to the BRIT Awards ceremony, chatting quietly to his manager with Radio 1 playing in the background and Greg James covering the drivetime show.

“This next artist is the winner of this year’s BRIT Award for Rising Star accolade,” Greg’s voice cut through the conversation. “This is Set Fire to the Rain by Harry Styles.”

“What?” Louis had immediately blurted out. “What was that? Can you turn it up a bit please, mate?”

The driver dutifully increased the volume as a raspy voice began to sing about throwing a relationship to the flames. A voice that was incredibly familiar to Louis, even though he hadn’t ever heard it in such a professional context.

The journey was silent as the song continued to its end.

“That was Harry Styles, and I’m incredibly grateful that the BRITs are still doing the Rising Star award – especially when it means we get gems like that,” stated Greg. “He’ll be performing that song tonight at the BRIT Awards, which is where I’ll be heading as soon as this show finishes, so please can we keep the traffic to a minimum in central London tonight?”

Going to the award show itself was a blur after that – Louis had been nominated for and won Best New Artist, but he couldn’t tell you a single word of his acceptance speech – his focus had been very intently on avoiding his tall and very ruffly ex-boyfriend.

That had been over 18 months before, and somehow Louis had managed to avoid Harry at various events ever since. And it seemed like they were involved in a volley of sad songs – for every track Louis released, Harry followed it up with one that dug in a knife even further.

But he knew that he was on borrowed time: like Lottie had said, soon enough someone would realise that they were from the same hometown. When that eventually happened, Louis had no idea what was going to happen.

_‘We play so dirty in the dark, ‘cause we are living worlds apart, it only makes it harder, baby…’_

💔💔💔💔💔

“So, we hear that you’re from the same neighbourhood as Louis Tomlinson, did you guys grow up together?” the oh-so-perky interviewer asked cheerfully.

Harry froze up completely.

“Uh…,” he said uncertainly. “Pardon?”

“Louis Tomlinson?” the interviewer repeated. “We’ve heard that you went to the same school, lived in the same road. So, we were wondering if you knew each other. Maybe hung out?”

“Um, well,” Harry stammered. “I, uh. Y-yeah?” he managed, sounding completely uncertain and thrown.

“What was he like?”

Harry blinked hard, his thoughts racing.

_‘Everybody loves the things you do, from the way you talk, to the way you move, everybody here is watching you, ‘cause you feel like home, you’re like a dream come true…’_

“Um, I’m, uh,” he looked around for his PA, not sure if he could answer the question at all, let alone how to answer it. “He was, uh. Spontaneous, uh, loud, and um, loud.” He ran an anxious hand through his hair.

“That… tells us a lot,” the interviewer said through a forced smile. “Did you not get along?”

“No, of course we did,” Harry said quickly. “We got on fine.”

Jinny finally appeared, causing Harry to breathe out a sigh of relief, before he noticed the harassed look on her face as she shrugged helplessly at him. He glared a little, trying to communicate that he did not want to continue this line of conversation, and closed his eyes briefly when she held her hands up.

“But there’s obviously some history?” the interviewer continued to needle.

“I mean, I guess,” Harry mumbled. “We, uh… we didn’t really share friend groups, I guess you could say.” That was because they hadn’t really had friends outside of each other – too wrapped up in their relationship to bother with anyone else. “I mean, um. We knew each other, I suppose. Went to the same school. Lived a few houses apart.”

“Any secrets of his you could spill?” came the next giggled question, causing Harry to sigh heavily.

“Not really,” he said slowly. “We were all quite boring growing up, really.” He shrugged a little. “Nothing happened in our neighbourhood.”

The interviewer looked a little dejected that she hadn’t managed to dig up some gossip, and quickly wrapped up the interview after that.

Harry stood and removed the microphone, looking at Jinny with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologised quickly. “I was trying to get them to quit that line of questioning, but the producer was insisting that it was within the parameters of the briefing.”

Harry sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair slowly.

“I’m gonna have to blacklist his name, aren’t I?” he asked quietly.

“I think so,” Jinny nodded. “That’s gonna be the only way to avoid it.”

Harry let his head drop back with a groan.

“Fuck, fine,” he relented. “I hate this shit. I just wanna sing, Jin.”

“I know, babe,” she gently touched his arm. “C’mon. Let’s get you to the next one.”

He slipped into the back of the car, Jinny following close behind, and greeted Rob, his driver.

“Can we listen to Radio 1, please?” he asked, just as they began to pull away.

“Of course,” Rob agreed, flicking a switch on the stereo system.

A moment later, the car was filled with a familiar raspy voice.

“Oh, fucking typical,” Harry mumbled, burying his face in his hands as he automatically tuned into the words, Louis’ lyricism having always been a trait he’d admired and been a little jealous of.

_‘I know I’m not the only one, who regrets the things they’ve done, sometimes I feel it’s only me, who can’t stand the reflection that they see, I wish I could live a little more, look up to the sky not just the floor, I feel like my life is flashing by, and all I can do is watch and cry, I miss the air, I miss my friends, I miss my mother, I miss it when, life was a party to be thrown, but that was a million years ago…’_

Harry felt his eyes fill with tears, curling up on the back seat of the car and resting his head against the window as the car weaved its way through the streets of London.

💔💔💔💔💔

“Can you believe this shit?” Louis demanded, throwing a magazine on the coffee table in front of Lottie. “‘We didn’t share friend groups, we were boring, Louis was loud’,” he said in a mocking tone. “Fuck, Lotts!” He threw himself down on the sofa, resting his elbow on the arm and rubbing at his face. “That’s all he has to fucking say about us.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?” Lottie asked slowly. “I mean, what were you expecting him to say? Really? ‘Louis and I were lovers and he left me to go be a singer’?” She raised a challenging eyebrow. “You’re both closeted. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Stop being fucking logical,” he muttered. “If I wanted logic, I’d call my accountant.”

Lottie didn’t reply, instead choosing to watch him steadily, waiting patiently.

“Okay, okay!” he relented a few moments later. “Fine, you’re right,” he grumbled.

Lottie nodded satisfactorily and returned to painting her nails.

“He did what he could in that situation,” she told him. “Besides. I’ve heard through the grapevine that the questions were a surprise – he didn’t really know how to respond.”

“Heard through the grapevine?” Louis raised an eyebrow. “What bloody grapevine? How the fuck have you got a grapevine? Or access to one?”

“You know I don’t just sit around while you do your shit, right?” she glared. “I introduce myself; I talk to people, I make connections.” She flicked her hair over a shoulder. “Managed to get a few gigs just by chatting.”

“Gigs doing what?”

“Makeup, hair, y’know, the shit I’m trained to do,” she said flatly. “I’m building up my damn reputation, Louis. And I’m not using your name to do it.”

Louis sighed softly.

“I know that, Lotts,” he muttered. “Sorry for being grumpy.”

“You been in the studio?” she asked, leaning forward to finally pick up the magazine that had so offended him.

“Was on my way when I saw that,” Louis grumbled. “Then I got annoyed and distracted. Will head back there in a bit.”

“Excellent plan, cos writing will definitely make everything seem better,” Lottie nodded. “And this is accurate.”

“What? No, it isn’t!”

“It is, Lou,” Lottie said gently. “This is exactly what you would’ve been like if you hadn’t been together. You’ve not kept any of the same friends, because you never had any of the same friends to start off. Home was and is very boring – nothing ever really happens. The fact that we’ve got two famous singers who grew up there is literally the most exciting thing to have ever happened in the entire history. And you’ve always been fucking loud.” She sighed softly. “There’s not a single lie in this interview, Lou.”

“But intonation and inference are half of it,” Louis sighed heavily. “And this infers a lot more. That we were literally nothing to each other.”

“Because he’s not going to out you against your will.”

“Why do you have to be so damn sensible?”

“Because you’re being a brat,” Lottie told him, eyeing him contemplatively. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he muttered, then waved a hand for her to continue.

“Why can’t you just move on? I mean, it’s about time,” she said softly. “It’s been so long, Lou.”

He gave her a sad smile.

“Would that I could,” he replied quietly. “Would that I could.”

_‘Everybody tells me it’s about time that I moved on, and I need to learn to lighten up and learn how to be young, but my heart is a valley, it’s so shallow and man-made, I’m scared to death if I let you in that you’ll see I’m just a fake…’_

💔💔💔💔💔

**_‘Louis Tomlinson steps out with steady girlfriend Eleanor Calder at London Fashion Week! (Is that a ring we see?)’_ **

Harry stared down at his phone in disbelief, the words large, stark, and like nineteen fiery blades stabbing through his heart at once.

“Haz, I got you that godawful kale and kiwi superfood blend thing you like,” Gemma’s voice broke through the noise in his head. “And I got it in a large, so you fucking owe me.” She dumped her bag on the coffee table and thrust the takeaway cup in front of his face. “What are you looking at?”

Harry blinked once, before swapping his phone for the drink, taking a deep drink as Gemma scanned over the headline and subsequent article.

“Well, that’s a bit shitty, isn’t it?” she commented lightly. “They both look thoroughly bored, and that’s hardly the right way to appear at LFW.” Gemma looked at Harry, trying to figure out how she should be responding. “Hey,” she eventually said gently. “He really doesn’t look like he’s into her, nor she him. They can’t hold hands properly – it looks ridiculous. And the ring she’s wearing looks like something out of a gumball machine, hardly one that Louis would propose with.” She squeezed Harry’s arm lightly. “I didn’t know you were still so hung up on him, Haz.”

“I’ll always be hung up on him,” he finally mumbled. “Always be in love with him.” Harry ran a hand over his ever-increasing sleeve of ink. “Been getting all the tattoos I always said I’d get for him, and I don’t think he even knows, let alone cares about it.”

“You know he’s been getting ink too?” Gemma suddenly asked.

“What?” Harry looked at her in confusion. “Louis?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded.

“Not a chance,” Harry shook his head quickly. “He hates them. Whenever I said about tattoos I wanted, he’d always pull a face and practically beg me not to. Said they’d make me look like a criminal, and he’d never, ever get them himself.”

Gemma gave a small chuckle and rubbed his back.

“You need to take a look at google sometime,” she told him. “He’s definitely changed his mind.”

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Why am I not surprised?” he mumbled, rubbing at his face.

“Right, well, I’m gonna head out,” Gemma said. “I’m meeting Michal for lunch, and you have a soundcheck to get to.”

“You two are getting pretty serious, huh?”

“Yeah, I think we are,” she nodded, smiling coyly. “He makes me happy.”

Harry stood and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m really happy for you, Gem,” he murmured. “You deserve every single second of happiness with a good man, and Michal is definitely one of the good ones.”

“Thanks, little bro,” she replied quietly, gently rubbing his back. “You’re gonna find a good one too, y’know. If not right now, then soon, eventually. You’ll find someone.”

Harry gave her a weak smile.

“Love you, sis,” was all he said.

“Love you too,” Gemma answered, before she left the flat as Harry pulled his trusty notebook closer.

_‘This was all you, none of it me, you put your hands on, on my body and told me, told me you were ready… I’m giving it up, I’ve forgiven it all, you set me free… send my love to your new lover, treat her better, we gotta let go of all of our ghosts, we both know we ain’t kids no more…’_

Harry let out a low grumble and shoved the notebook roughly across the coffee table, throwing himself back onto the sofa and flinging an arm over his eyes dramatically. His heart was hurting, physically hurting, at the thought of Louis being with anyone else, let alone a woman. But Harry was in this ridiculously fickle industry as well now. He knew that things weren’t ever always as they appeared to be to the general public.

He sighed heavily and looked at the clock, before letting out a soft curse and jumping to his feet. He rushed around the flat, gathering everything he needed to take with him to the venue – he was performing a preview of his upcoming tour at the Roundhouse for a small number of competition winners and supposedly ‘important’ people from the label and management. Harry really couldn’t give a flying fuck about them – his fans meant far more to him than any suit.

The rest of the afternoon with soundcheck and the charity meet and greets passed quickly, and he was soon slipping into the wide leg, high waist cream trousers, and bright pink shirt that his stylist had helped him choose. Harry ran a hand through his hair, giving a cheeky smirk at the screech from his hairdresser, and joined his band at the side of the stage.

“Um, I’ve got another song I wanna try out first,” he suddenly blurted out. “You guys mind if I go out first?”

“Dude, it’s your show, do whatever you want,” Mitch shrugged. “Just nod when you want us out there.”

Harry looked at them doubtfully.

“Think they’re gonna be pissed at me for going off script?” he asked.

“Fuck em,” Adam declared. “You’re the one out there earning the cash. You go do your thing.”

He flickered a smile and took a deep breath, grabbing the neck of his guitar and slinging the strap over his head, before he headed out onto the stage to the screams of the audience.

“Hello, good evening,” he greeted them with a bright smile. “Thank you for having me this evening. My name is Harry Styles, and I’m going to sing a few songs for you.” He paused as the screams got louder again and nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m going to get my band out here in just a moment, but first, I’m going to head a little off book and sing something that I wrote this afternoon, so I apologise in advance if it’s a little rough.”

He took one step back and cleared his throat as he strummed the guitar once, quiet immediately falling over the audience as they seemed to sense the enormity of the moment.

_‘I heard that you’re settled down, that you found a girl, and you’re married now, I heard that your dreams came true, guess she gave you things, I couldn’t give to you… old friend, why are you so shy? Ain’t like you to hold back, or hide from the light… I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited, but I couldn’t stay away, I couldn’t fight it, I had hoped you’d see my face and that you’d be reminded that for me, it isn’t over…’_

Harry took an extra moment to gather himself for the chorus, his eyes scanning the audience for their reaction, before he got caught on one face. One face that made his breath catch in his throat. A face that he hadn’t seen for years. A face that every song was written about.

_‘Never mind, I’ll find someone like you, I wish nothing but the best for you too, don’t forget me, I beg, I remember you said, sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead…’_

💔💔💔💔💔

Louis had no idea how or why he was even standing in the Roundhouse, pint in hand. All he could really make of the evening so far was that Lottie had appeared with a garment bag that she’d shoved into his hands with the command to wear it, and when he’d climbed into the car waiting outside, Eleanor had already been in there.

Somehow he’d been practically smuggled into the venue, with no idea who he was going to be seeing, and was confused and surprised at finding JC at the bar holding a ridiculously flamboyant cocktail.

“Holy fucking shit, what are you doing here?” JC blurted out.

“I genuinely have no idea,” Louis muttered honestly, holding a hand up to the bartender for a pint. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m the producer for the album,” JC replied, looking baffled. “I just… this is the last place I ever expected you to be.”

“I don’t even know who’s performing,” Louis huffed.

“Ah,” JC nodded slowly. “That explains a lot.”

Louis stiffened at something in JC’s tone, before slowly turning to look at him.

“Why do you say it like that?” he asked.

“No reason,” JC immediately fumbled.

“Jay…” Louis said warningly.

JC sighed heavily before he pulled a ticket out of his back pocket, holding it up for Louis to see. Louis practically snatched it out of his hand and peered at it, his breath catching in his throat as he recognised the long legs wrapped in cream trousers, a brilliant pink shirt, and the brunet curls on top.

“Shit,” Louis muttered. “It’s Harry’s showcase.”

“Yup,” JC nodded. “Hence the surprise.” Louis shot him another probing look, causing him to roll his eyes. “Oh, c’mon mate. I’ve been working with both of you for at least three years now. Even though you’re still a tightly locked casket, H opens up when he’s writing. He admitted to me that you used to be together within about six months.” He paused for a moment. “Although it shouldn’t be an admission, for fuck sake. You were the big dramatic star-crossed lovers, the forever kind of love.”

“I don’t think so,” Louis shook his head quickly, before he took a large gulp of his pint. “I fucked that up. Big style.” He snorted softly at his unintentional pun. “He’s moving on.”

“Oh, he really, really isn’t,” JC rolled his eyes. “Wait ’til you hear this album.”

Louis sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face.

“I should probably go anyway,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, you should,” JC insisted. “Just stay. At least for the first song.” He glanced around Louis at Eleanor. “And maybe see if you can distance yourself a little from the fiancée.”

“She’s not my fiancée,” Louis immediately retorted, glaring at JC. “Label decided I needed to look a bit more straight.”

“Labels are fucking dickheads,” JC replied. “Need to ditch her. Soon.” He drained the last of his cocktail. “Before the wrong message gets to certain people, and then you’ll definitely be shit out of luck for the future.”

Louis huffed softly as the lights dimmed and the audience in the pit, obviously made up of fans, began to scream.

And then Harry stepped out into the spotlight. Wearing the exact same outfit as he had on in the picture on JC’s ticket. Louis felt his breath catch again as his heart began to pound in his chest. He’d forgotten just how beautiful Harry could be, and the years that had separated them had only helped.

He was accompanied only by a guitar for the first song, and Louis closed his eyes for a moment, letting his husky yet smooth voice surround him and fill every part of him. Tension he hadn’t realised he was holding eased out of his shoulders and back. Louis took another sip of his drink as he gazed at the stage, and he saw the exact moment that Harry registered his presence.

No one else in the room was likely to have noticed, but Louis did. It was a miniscule thing – a slight falter on his strum, a sharp intake of breath, a widening of his eyes – and then Harry kept his gaze locked on Louis’ as he continued to sing about letting go of a former love, finding someone else, and moving on.

“Shit,” he mumbled as the song drew to a close.

“Told you,” JC nodded. “And I’d not escape yet. There’s more.”

“I’m not a fucking masochist, Jay,” Louis grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

“Not saying you are, but I know the setlist,” the producer insisted. “That was a bit of a wildcard, not gonna lie, but this next one is definitely aimed at you.”

“Aren’t they all?” Louis asked tiredly.

JC looked at him for a moment, then shrugged in agreement.

“Just the same as yours are all about him, mate.”

Louis looked back at the stage, where Harry had launched immediately into the next song, and he was immediately transfixed again.

Before Louis had a chance to even realise what had happened, Harry was introducing the last song.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said with a bright smile. “You’ve all been absolutely fantastic, and I’m so incredibly grateful that you came, because if you’re not here, then I can’t be up here doing this. I’ve asked. It’s not allowed.” He paused as the audience laughed in delight. “This is the last song of the night, and I’ll be completely honest, there are some people here that I never expected to sing this in front of… but that could be said about virtually every other song I’ve performed tonight.” Louis’ eyes widened at Harry’s admission. “But thank you again for letting us perform for you. I’ve been Harry Styles, and this is When We Were Young.”

Louis stared as the song began, his heart moving up into his throat as he listened intently to the words, while Harry unerringly found his gaze and deliberately sang to him.

_‘But if by chance you’re here alone, could I have a minute before I go? Cos I’ve been by myself all night long, hoping you’re someone I used to know… you look like a movie, you sound like a song, my god this reminds me, of when we were young…’_

After the last note sounded, and before the lights came up, JC grabbed Louis’ arm.

“What are you doing?” Louis immediately shouted against the producer’s ear.

“You’re coming with me!” JC replied, starting to tug Louis along with him. “Leave your girlfriend behind – she won’t get through the security checks anyway.”

“And you really think I will?” Louis asked in disbelief, tripping over an unseen step. “Shit!”

“Yeah, cos you’re with me,” JC suddenly stopped by a door labelled ‘backstage’ to beam brightly at him. “And I’m pretty sure that no one on H’s team has been told about you.” He considered for a moment. “Not the security, anyway.” With that, he pushed the door open and slipped inside, pulling Louis with him, the quiet of the hallway after the noise of the main space almost deafening in its emptiness.

“I can’t begin to count all the ways this will go wrong,” Louis groaned. “And you haven’t even asked if I _want_ to go see him.”

“The fact that you’re not fighting against me even though I’ve pulled you into a dark hallway is enough of a sign,” JC told him flatly.

“You know nothing,” Louis insisted.

JC rolled his eyes and continued through a series of doors and corridors, nodding at various members of Harry’s team, before he stopped beside a seemingly innocuous door, bearing a simple ‘HS’.

“This is Harry’s room,” JC said unnecessarily. “You’re going in. I’m not. I don’t want to know what happens in there. I just hope that you two manage to get yourselves sorted out a bit.”

“Jay…”

JC held up a finger, immediately silencing him, before he knocked twice on the door, hearing a gravelly ‘come in’, and pushed the door open, shoving Louis unceremoniously through and slamming it shut again.

“Fuck,” Louis muttered under his breath as the door caught the back of his heel, causing him to stumble a little before he gathered his balance and looked up. “Fuck,” he repeated, his gaze locked onto Harry’s.

“Indeed,” Harry replied quietly.

The pair said nothing more, just simply looked their fill of each other. Louis silently marvelled at how much the boy he’d known had turned into a man, how he’d grown in both stature and definition, and unfailingly, how big a mistake he’d made in leaving without a word all those years before.

“Haz,” he found himself saying slowly, biting his lip at the visible flinch that crossed Harry’s face. “Harry,” he tried instead. “I… I don’t really know why I’m here. JC shoved me in the room, but I don’t know how I got here, physically I mean, to the venue.”

“You didn’t come with the wife?” Harry asked, a little sarcastically.

“I’m not fucking married,” Louis said firmly. “Or engaged, or even fucking dating. Not dating anyone at all, let alone a fucking woman,” he added with a deliberate shudder. “But apparently I needed help looking straight or something. Gay doesn’t sell.”

“They keep trying to tell me that, too,” Harry muttered. “Fucking homophobes.”

“Tell me about it,” Louis shook his head with a heavy sigh. “Look, what I mean to say is, I didn’t come here with an agenda or anything like that.” He ran a hand through his hair as he greedily looked at Harry some more. “It’s… it’s absolutely amazing to see you. I’m so proud of everything you’ve been doing – you’re a fantastic songwriter, and I love hearing your voice.”

“You’ve listened?” Harry immediately asked, sitting up a little straighter.

“I’ve heard a bit,” Louis admitted. “I live with Lotts. She loves your stuff.”

Harry smiled softly.

“How is she?” he asked. “I’m sorry about your mum, and Fizzy.” He shook his head slightly. “I should’ve got in touch, but I didn’t know whether it would be welcome or not.”

“Oh, Haz,” Louis sighed softly. “Always welcome, you know that. Always.”

“No, I don’t,” Harry replied carefully. “But it’s nice to hear.”

Louis bit his lip hard, before he took a small step closer.

“I need to apologise,” he said slowly. “The way I left… back then. It was wrong. It was the worst thing I could ever have done.”

“It was,” Harry agreed.

“And I’m not going to ask your forgiveness, because I know I don’t deserve it,” Louis continued. “I’m not going to make excuses either. I just made a really, really shitty decision, one that I’ve regretted ever since.”

“Well, if you hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t be here right now,” Harry said with a shrug. “So, it probably worked out for the best.”

“Not really the point,” Louis sighed. “I just… I feel like we needed to clear the air a little. So that we can actually answer questions about each other being from the same place without feeling like we’re caught in headlights.” He flickered a smile.

“Okay, well,” Harry nodded once. “Consider the air cleared.”

Louis continued to gaze at him, shifting slightly as he tried to make himself leave, but finding it a lot harder than he’d ever expected.

💔💔💔💔💔

Harry shifted under the weight of Louis’ gaze. He completely understood Louis’ hesitancy to leave – the idea of it being another four years before they saw each other again seemed to hang imposingly over both their heads.

“I, uh, I need to get changed,” Harry eventually said.

“Oh, um, yeah, of course,” Louis stammered. “I should, um… go.”

“Y-yeah,” Harry replied.

“Or I could stay,” Louis blurted out.

“Stay?” Harry widened his eyes in surprise.

“Yeah, stay,” Louis nodded. “I can kick Lotts out for the night. You can come back to mine. Have a drink. And a chat.”

“A drink?” Harry asked uncertainly. “And a chat?”

Louis nodded firmly, while Harry eyed him suspiciously.

“Look, don’t get me wrong,” Louis began. “I know that this isn’t going to be anything. I know this is just gonna be a one-off night to catch up. But… I want a good one. To remember. Remember how we used to be.”

“Lou…” Harry started to shake his head.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, Haz,” Louis implored. “I just… I don’t think I’m ever gonna love anyone the way I love you. I don’t want to get emotional over this. I just want it to be us.” He forced a smile. “Just play pretend, yeah?”

Before Harry could really comprehend what had happened, he found himself nodding slowly.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “But you don’t need to kick Lottie out. You can come back to mine.”

Louis nodded once.

“I’ll wait outside while you clean up,” he said gently. “And let Lotts know not to expect me home.”

Harry felt the next period of time as though he were watching from a distance. He saw himself quickly shower in the en suite, and get dressed in a pair of joggers and a tee, shoving his feet into a pair of Vans, and grabbing his keys from the side. He left the room and gestured for Louis to follow him through the corridors and outside into the fresh air, straight into an awaiting car.

The journey was made in silence, only broken by the faint sounds of Radio 2 coming from the car stereo, until they reached Harry’s building. Harry leaned forward to murmur a thanks to the driver, before he ushered Louis out of the car and through the front gate. Within minutes, they were entering the front door of Harry’s cosy flat, and he rushed around, turning lights on, petting at his black and white long-hair cat – “okay, Muffin, I’ll feed you in just a sec, I promise” – and generally settling back in at home.

“You have a cat,” Louis observed quietly.

“This is Muffin,” Harry said proudly. “She’s a diva and a half, and basically rules the flat with a paw of steel, but she’s adorable and I love her.”

“She looks incredibly important,” Louis nodded.

“That’s because she is,” Harry chuckled. “And she tells me just how important she is on a daily basis.”

Louis smiled softly.

“You have a lovely home here, Haz,” he added. “It’s very… you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a good thing?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Louis said earnestly. “Feels like I’ve stepped into one of your hugs,” he added with a small shrug. “It’s perfectly you.”

Harry watched as Louis crouched down next to Muffin, gently making a fuss and talking quietly to her.

“I feel like we’re avoiding what’s about to happen,” he said after a few moments.

Louis looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“We are?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded slowly. “We both know why you’re here, Lou.” He shrugged a little, feeling somewhat helpless. “Can we just… get it over with?”

Louis gazed at him for a beat, before he stood up with a nod.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Uh. Let’s get to it, I guess.” He gestured with a hand. “Lead the way.”

Harry sighed softly but took a step forward to do as Louis said, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. He looked at Louis quizzically.

“I meant what I said,” Louis said softly. “Can we pretend? Please? Just for tonight… can it just be like it used to be?”

Harry searched his gaze quickly, seeing nothing but desperation in Louis’ eyes, before he slowly slipped his hand along Louis’ arm to tangle their fingers together. He leaned in, gently pressing a kiss to Louis’ lips, feeling him sigh softly and sink into it easily.

“C’mon, babe,” Harry murmured. “Show me how much you missed me while you were at work today.”

Louis looked up at him with a tender smile and nodded once, squeezing Harry’s hand and following him to the bedroom.

💔💔💔💔💔

“Holy shit, Louis, I didn’t mean for you to fuck the man and leave,” JC blurted.

Louis lifted his head from where he was looking at his guitar, raising an eyebrow slowly.

“Pardon?” he asked coldly.

“I just read this,” JC replied, holding up a sheet of lyrics. “This is fucking painful, man. Like. I think it’s the toughest yet.”

Louis shrugged a shoulder, gently picking at the strings.

“It happened,” he murmured. “I thought it would help. It didn’t. Figured I’d try and write it down. Didn’t actually mean for you to see it, to be honest. I’m not sure if I wanna record it or not.”

JC watched him for a few moments, before he pulled himself closer to the control desk.

“Record it,” he said firmly. “See how it sounds. It might help with the whole ‘dealing with it’ thing. Plus, you may get a kick-ass song out of it.”

Louis sighed heavily and reluctantly moved over to join JC at the desk.

“I don’t think I’ve even got a melody in mind,” he muttered.

“Liar,” JC told him, before he pointed at the booth. “Get your ass in there at the piano and play.”

Louis ran a hand through his hair and stood up, slowly making his way to sit at the piano inside the recording booth. He ran his fingers over the keys, staying silent for a few moments, before he pressed one key, then another, until he was playing properly.

‘ _I will leave my heart at the door, I won’t say a word, they’ve all been said before, you know, so why don’t we just play pretend, like we’re not scared of what is coming next, or scared of having nothing left, look don’t get me wrong, I know there is no tomorrow, all I ask is if this is my last night with you, hold me like I’m more than just a friend, give me a memory I can use, take me by the hand while we do what lovers do, it matters how this ends, cos what if I never love again…_ ’

💔💔💔💔💔

‘ _Let this be our lesson in love, let this be the way we remember us, I don’t wanna be cruel or vicious, and I ain’t asking for forgiveness, all I ask is if this is my last night with you…_ ’

Harry listened silently while the song played out in the studio, seemingly unaware of the tears that were freely rolling down his cheeks as Louis’ voice and words swept over and around him. They seeped into his every pore, taking every single bit of heartache he’d been feeling since he realised that Louis had left all those years ago and putting it out on display for anyone who heard it.

“Fuck,” he murmured after the track had finished playing, and silence had filled the studio for a few moments. “Why did you play me that, Jay?”

“Because I’m sick of you two dancing around each other now,” JC grumbled. “I’ve sat through five years of this back and forth of passive-aggressive exchange of songs, and to be honest, I’m tired. I don’t have the emotional capacity for this anymore. So, despite having sworn to keep my nose out, I’m very definitely sticking it in and interfering my ass off.”

“And what, pray tell, are you hoping to achieve?” Harry asked.

“I’m hoping the pair of you will pull your fingers out of your respective asses and realise that you belong together,” JC said in a voice that suggested it was entirely obvious.

“I think we’re too far past that,” Harry said quietly. “Too much hurt, too many years, too much resentment.”

“There’s no sodding resentment, you stubborn idiot,” JC sighed heavily. “Unless you’re still holding onto it from when he left.” JC eyed him speculatively. “And you’re not, are you? Not now that you’re both where you are?”

“Probably not, no,” Harry mumbled honestly. “Still stings a bit, but I get it. And I wouldn’t be doing this if he hadn’t.”

“Exactly!”

“But Jay, it’s still been so long,” Harry insisted. “I really don’t think he’ll want to go back to that.”

“So, don’t go back,” JC shrugged. “Move forward. Have an adult relationship. Learn everything that’s changed about each other. Relearn everything that’s the same.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Harry sighed.

“I know that it’s far from it,” JC replied. “But is it – is _he_ worth the effort?”

“Always.”

💔💔💔💔💔

“Always,” Louis sighed. “He always has been worth it, Jay.” He looked at his hands for a moment, before he turned his gaze to the producer. “He’s been the inspiration for my entire career. Of course he’s worth it.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “But I fucked up so bad. There’s no way back for us.”

“What the fuck is it with you two and ‘back’?” JC muttered under his breath.

“What?” Louis raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” JC replied hastily.

“No, no,” Louis insisted, moving to sit alongside the producer. “Please continue with that train of thought. Have you been talking to Harry? Behind my back?”

“You mean the way I’m talking to you behind his?” JC asked drily.

Louis had the decency to look a little uncomfortable for a moment, but then narrowed his eyes.

“Let’s not deflect,” he glared. “I wanna know if you’ve been running your mouth.”

JC rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

“No, I have not been _running my mouth_ , you insolent little shit,” he huffed, pushing at Louis’ chair. He eyed Louis uncertainly before he visibly made a decision, emphasised with a small nod, and then continued. “He talks about you. A lot. Pretty much incessantly, especially if he’s had a drink or a toke.”

“Wait, you’re saying Haz has been smoking weed?” Louis asked in disbelief. “Harry Styles? Seriously?”

“Dude’s done more than a harmless bit of pot, Lou,” JC admitted, looking at the desk with a slight frown.

“What does that mean?” Louis immediately asked, moving to the edge of his seat. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Has he been doing hard drugs?”

“Woah, woah, easy pal,” JC held up his hands defensively. “He’s experimented now and then. But he’s not addicted. He’s not in trouble. He’s safe, I swear to you. Jeez, man. Calm your shit.”

“Sorry, I just…” Louis rubbed a hand over his face. “I just worry about him. And I’ve been suppressing all of this for the past five years, so apparently the smallest hint of an outlet has caused a proper flood.”

“So I see,” JC mused. “What are you going to do about this sudden gush of emotion then?”

“I mean…,” Louis rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve always been one for the grand gestures, so I guess I should do something fairly… big?”

JC shrugged.

“Like what?”

Louis frowned as he thought, slowly spinning in a circle in the chair, before his face brightened and he beamed at JC.

“I’ve got it,” he declared. “I’m ending it with Elena.”

“I thought she was called Eleanor?” JC raised an eyebrow.

“Oh… yeah… her.”

“How are you going to manage that, exactly? I thought it was a label contract.”

“Guess it’s time I pushed things a little harder,” Louis hummed. “Or maybe just… undermine the whole thing?”

“Again, how are you going to manage that?” JC eyed him suspiciously.

“I’m gonna need your help, I think.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

💔💔💔💔💔

“HARRY! WAKE THE FUCK UP! HARRY!”

Harry groaned and rolled over onto his front, burying his face under his pillow to block out the sound of Gemma yelling.

“FOR FUCK SAKE, WAKE UP YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“Stop fucking yelling,” he mumbled. “I’m awake. Unfortunately.” He sighed heavily and pushed himself upright, rubbing at his face as he peered at his sister. “What’s so bloody important to warrant all this?”

“You have to see this,” Gemma told him. “It’s all over the internet this morning. Everyone is going absolutely off their nut.”

“What is?” Harry blinked tiredly.

Gemma thrust her phone in front of his face.

“Louis’ Instagram stories,” she elaborated.

Harry immediately felt more awake, pulling away from Gemma a little.

“I don’t want to know,” he said firmly.

“Yes, you do,” Gemma insisted. “Listen to this.”

She pressed a couple of things on her screen, then turned the volume up. The sound of a slightly tinny guitar filtered out, before a gently raspy voice began to sing over the top.

‘ _Will he… will he still remember me? Will he still love me even when he’s free? Or will he go back to the place where he would choose the poison over me? When we spoke yesterday, he said to hold my breath and sit and wait, ‘I’ll be home so soon, I won’t be late…’ he won’t go, he can’t do it on his own, if this ain’t love then what is, he’s willing to take the risk, so I won’t go, he can’t do it on his own, if this ain’t love then what is, I’m willing to take the risk…_ ’

Harry began to protest at first, but promptly settled when he heard the first male pronoun in Louis’ voice. His eyes widened slowly as the short snippet of song continued, staring between the phone and Gemma.

“Is that… is that real?” he eventually stammered.

“Uh huh,” she nodded quickly. “There’s more.”

She showed him the screen as the next story flicked over and began.

‘ _You’ve been on my mind, I grow fonder every day, lose myself in time, just thinking of your face, God only knows, why it’s taken me so long, to let my doubts go, you’re the only one that I want, I don’t know why I’m scared, I’ve been here before, every feeling, every word, I’ve imagined it all, you’ll never know if you never try, to forgive our past and simply be mine… I dare you to let me be your, your one and only, I promise I’m worthy, to hold in your arms, so come on and give me the chance, to prove I am the one who can, walk that mile until the end starts…_ ’

Harry covered his mouth with a hand, barely able to remove his eyes from the phone.

“Fuck,” he breathed slowly. “That… that’s…”

“Totally aimed at you,” Gemma finished. “He’s up in Donny. He took a photo of home. A bit of an oblique one – so you can only really recognise it if you know it already.”

“Shit,” Harry mumbled. “Shit, shit, shit. I… I need to go home, don’t I?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” Gemma said quietly. “Are you ready to get into it again?”

“Definitely,” he immediately replied. “God, I miss him. And… I need to do something. Because at the moment, everything’s coming from him – that song that JC let me listen to, and now this. I need to put something out there too.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded slowly. “Like what?”

Harry stood up quickly.

“I’ve got an idea, but I’m gonna need your help,” he said. “Can you give me a lift home? Or Michal? Well, both of you, ideally. I need someone to drive and someone to hold the damn phone while I play guitar.”

“We will be your groupies,” Gemma said in a mock serious voice. “I’ll go grab Michal. He’s owed a couple days off work anyway.”

“Thanks, sis,” Harry beamed at her, then pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m gonna get dressed and pack. I’ll see you in an hour?”

While Gemma left the flat quickly to fetch her boyfriend, Harry picked up a towel in one hand, and a pen in the other, starting to write scraps of lyrics that were coming to mind in his trusty notebook, humming quietly under his breath.

Within an hour, he was curled up in the back of Michal’s car with a guitar on his knee and his notebook on the seat next to him.

“Does this sound okay?” he asked, halfway up the M1, before he plucked quietly at the strings and sang a few lines.

Gemma turned in the front seat to look back at him.

“H, you know I love all your stuff,” she started. “So you asking me if something is good is basically pointless, because I’m incredibly biased, and I’m gonna say ‘of course’ in a heartbeat.”

“Harry, that was good,” Michal interjected. “And there’s some of your shit that I don’t like, as you know.”

Harry chuckled quietly.

“Thanks, mate,” he replied. He glanced out of the window, smiling softly when he spotted the trees and fields that spread out either side of the motorway, before he looked back at Gemma and held his phone out to her. “Okay, how about an Instagram live or whatever the fuck they’re called?”

“How have you survived with your ignorance of social media and maintaining a successful career?” Gemma asked him in disbelief.

“I’m gonna take that as a rhetorical question,” Harry said with a sniff.

“Dude, your phone’s locked,” she rolled her eyes.

“Passcode’s 2-4-1-2-9-1,” he said absently, his eyes already fixed back on his guitar.

“You utter fucking sap,” she shook her head, her thumb tapping the screen. “Okay, Instagram live is good to go. Just say the word and I’ll get you online.”

Harry took a deep breath, then nodded once at Gemma, who pressed the screen and nodded back.

Harry plucked gently at the strings of his guitar, before he began to sing quietly.

‘ _I remember all of the things that I thought I wanted to be, so desperate to find a way out of my world and finally breathe, right before my eyes I saw my heart it came to life, this ain’t easy, it’s not meant to be, every story has its scars… when the pain cuts you deep, and the night keeps you from sleeping, just look and you will see that I will be your remedy, when the world seems so cruel, and your heart makes you feel like a fool, I promise you will see that I will be, I will be your remedy…_ ’

He glanced up at the phone, nodding slowly to the beat, before refocusing on the guitar.

‘ _No river is too wide or too deep for me to swim to you, come whatever, I’ll be the shelter that won’t let the rain come through, your love it is my truth, and I will always love you… love you…_ ’

He drifted off slowly, looking back at the phone.

“Hey everyone, I hope you like that,” he said, feeling incredibly self-conscious. “But uh… that’s a song I just wrote. And this is one I wrote a while ago, but, um, I kinda think it’s right to share it now.”

With that, he cleared his throat and shifted his weight a little, before starting to play again.

‘ _She, she ain’t real, she ain’t gonna be able to love you like I will, she is a stranger, you and me got history or don’t you remember? Sure, she’s got it all, but baby is that really what you want? Bless your soul, you got your head in the clouds, you made a fool out of you and boy, she’s bringing you down, she made your heart melt but you’re cold to the core, now rumour has it she ain’t got your love anymore…_ ’

He finished with a flourish, smiling shyly at the camera.

“I hope you’re all good, um, there was something else I wanted you to know,” he continued, pausing for a moment to cough into his hand, before he ran it through his hair. “Uh, so, there’ve always been a lot of rumours about me, about my life, about my relationships. I’ve never publicly spoken about any of my relationships, past or present, but I know that my team have previously provided statements either confirming or denying such.” Harry screwed up his face slightly, then rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to have to say this now, but all of those confirmations were false. I’ve not been in a relationship at all since before I signed my recording contract. In fact, I’ve only been in one single relationship in my life, and that was when I was living at home in Doncaster. And it was with a boy.”

Gemma stared at him from behind his phone – she’d suspected where he was going with the statement when he’d begun, but to hear him say those words out loud were a shock to the system, after hearing him sidestep and duck around questions about his personal life for so long. She took a slow breath as Harry continued.

“So, this is me coming out to you,” he said quietly. “I probably should have done it long ago, but I wasn’t in the right place, mentally, to deal with everything that’s going to come with this. But, if I’m reading things right, and if I’m lucky, then maybe I won’t be single for very much longer.”

He smiled shyly.

“Thank you for listening to my rambling,” he continued. “And I hope you’re all having a wonderful weekend. Stay safe, all the love.”

Gemma cancelled the livestream and smiled at him wetly.

“Fucking hell, little brother,” she sniffed hard.

“Don’t get sappy,” Harry huffed quietly as he shifted in embarrassment. “It was just a thing.”

“A bloody important thing,” she insisted. “I’m proud of you little brother, and I love you a whole damn lot.”

Harry rolled his eyes but leaned forward and squeezed her hand.

“Love you too, big sister,” he replied. “Let’s just… hope this goes right?”

💔💔💔💔💔

Louis paced to and fro in the living room, running an anxious hand through his hair.

“Will you sit the fuck down already?” Lottie asked, sounding bored as she scrolled through her phone. “If he’s on his way, then he’ll be here when he’s here. If he’s not… well, I’m sure he’ll appear publicly at some point.”

“You could show a little compassion,” he muttered. “I’m having a very stressful day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes, before she suddenly sat up a little straighter. “Uh, Lou? Maybe check your phone?”

“My phone?” Louis looked over his shoulder at her, frowning in confusion. “What about my phone?”

“Just… look at Instagram,” Lottie told him firmly. “Right now.” She shot him a quick look. “I know you follow him on your private account.”

Louis scrambled to pull his phone from his pocket, opening the social media app and immediately spotting the [LIVE] label under Harry’s name.

“Fuck,” he breathed slowly, before taking a deep breath and tapping it carefully.

The sound of Harry’s husky voice, along with the gentle strum on his guitar, and the unmistakable drone of a motorway in the background spilled from the phone’s speakers. Louis pressed his fingers to his mouth as he watched the screen, listening intently to Harry as he sang, and barely noticing as Lottie guided him to sit on the sofa.

As the livestream continued after the song and Harry spoke earnestly and honestly, Louis found a lump building in his throat as his eyes filled with tears at Harry’s words.

“Fuck,” he repeated in a choked whisper when the stream ended, looking up at Lottie. “He… he came out.”

“Yeah,” Lottie nodded slowly. “He did.” She gave him a small smile. “Just like you did.”

“I-I didn’t do it properly, like Haz did,” he mumbled. “I just… hinted at it.” He sniffed hard and wiped a hand over his cheeks. “I need to do it again. Be more… explicit.”

“Lou…” Lottie started quietly.

“I don’t want there to be any chance of being misunderstood or misinterpreted,” he insisted. “Fuck. I just want him to know that I’m in this too.”

“I think he knows,” she told him. “He was in a car. Looked like the M1 in the background. I’m guessing he’s on his way here.”

“You couldn’t tell where he was, Lotts,” Louis rolled his eyes.

“Well, okay, maybe not,” she relented. “But Gem texted me and said they’re on their way, so y’know, I’m not wrong.”

Louis glared at her a little and stood.

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower then,” he said in a forcibly calm voice. “Try not to take over the world while I’m in there.”

He snickered and skipped to one side to avoid the cushion she threw at him.

💔💔💔💔💔

“So, have you actually listened to Louis’ albums now?” Gemma asked as Michal continued on past Newark. “Cos, y’know, they’re all very obviously about you.”

Harry looked at her blankly.

“Let’s not project,” he told her flatly. “But no, I haven’t listened to his stuff. Kinda can’t bring myself to, if I’m honest.”

“Well!” Gemma beamed, slapping at Michal’s groan from the driver’s seat. “What better time than on a road trip?” She caught Harry’s desperate look. “Just the highlights, I swear. I’ll play my favourites. Not the whole, gruesome, miserable mess.”

“Gruesome and miserable?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Pretty much,” she nodded and turned back to face the front, fiddling with her phone and the car radio. “Wait til you hear some of it.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” Harry muttered, burying his face in his hands for a moment, then looking over at Michal. “Can’t you stop her?”

“Mate, I’ve given up trying to intervene when she gets like this,” Michal replied. “I’ve found that it seldom ends well for me, or my back – because I normally end up sleeping on the sofa.”

“The pair of you can quit talking about me like I’m not here,” Gemma interrupted. “And you can just listen, okay? I’m not pulling your damn teeth out with a pair of pliers.” She looked back at Harry. “Plus, I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Fine, fine,” Harry sighed, waving a hand. “Let the torture begin.”

Before he’d even finished his sentence, the car was filled with music. Harry sighed softly and closed his eyes, leaning back against the seat as he let the lyrics, both heartbreaking and hopeful, conveyed by a raspy voice that was as familiar to him as his own, wash over him in a way he’d not allowed it to for over five years. He listened to the progression of the songs, the timeline of Louis’ time away from Doncaster, that documented each year with heartache and regret, and the unwavering acknowledgement that the love he’d felt was true, and the departure from it was his own fault.

“H?” Gemma’s voice broke through the trance-like state that Harry had fallen into. “This next one… it was the last song on his last album – the one he released not long after you did that showcase at the Roundhouse. Everyone said it was weird because of what it’s called, but… I think I understand why he did that.” She gazed steadily at her brother, who sighed softly.

“Go on,” he murmured. “Play it.”

‘ _Hello, it’s me, I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet, to go over, everything, they say that time’s supposed to heal ya, but I ain’t done much healing… hello, can you hear me? I’m in California dreaming about who we used to be, when we were younger and free, I’ve forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet, there’s such a difference between us and a million miles… hello from the other side, I must’ve called a thousand times, to tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done, but when I call you never seem to be home… hello from the outside, at least I can say that I’ve tried, to tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart, but it don’t matter it clearly doesn’t tear you apart anymore…_ ’

Harry took a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his face as his heart physically ached in his chest, while he tried to understand why Gemma had played this song in particular.

‘ _Hello, how are you? It’s so typical of me to talk about myself, I’m sorry, I hope that you’re well, did you ever make it out of that town where nothing seemed to happen? It’s no secret that the both of us are running out of time… so hello from the other side…_ ’

“How could he think it doesn’t hurt me?” Harry murmured as the song finished.

“How could you think he’d moved on with a _girl_?” asked Gemma pointedly.

“Touché,” he conceded, then sighed as he looked out of the window. “How much further?”

“About ten minutes,” Michal supplied. “Just coming off the motorway now.”

“Shit,” Harry sat up straighter. “Does that mean, ten minutes until I see Louis? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Well, I mean,” Gemma exchanged a look with Michal. “Only if you actually want to. No one’s going to force you into the house or anything.”

“No, no, I want to,” he said quickly. “Definitely want to.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I just… I hope he wants to see me.” He held up a hand to Gemma’s attempted protest. “I know, I know, I’ve heard the songs, I’ve seen the Instagram posts, I know he’s on board. Well.” He frowned slightly. “I figure he is from the pronoun usage – he didn’t exactly _explicitly_ come out, did he?”

“Are you seriously splitting hairs on this?” Gemma asked in disbelief. “C’mon, the bloke’s been so far in the closet, he was engaged to a girl, for fuck sake, Haz. The fact that he’s put out something aimed at male pronouns is ridiculously huge.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Harry put both hands up in surrender. “I mean, I get it. I know I was lucky with the negotiations on my contracts.”

“You really were,” Gemma interjected.

“But I guess…” he sighed heavily. “I guess I hoped that he’d have pushed a bit more before.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Not for me, but for him. For his peace of mind about being his true self or whatever.”

“You’ll have to speak to him, Haz,” Gemma said gently. “I have no idea what his though process has been, or what he’s been through. Either way, he’s obviously reached the point now where he wants out of that closet of his. So how about we just go with it, yeah?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Harry mumbled. “Fine, fine.”

A few minutes later, Michal flicked the indicator and slowly turned into the road on which Harry and Gemma had grown up. Harry took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he gazed around at the oh-so-familiar sight, running an anxious hand through his hair; it had been so long since he’d last been there, but it hadn’t changed at all.

“What if he won’t see me?” he suddenly blurted out, as the Tomlinson-Deakin household grew ever closer.

“He will,” Gemma assured him confidently.

“You don’t know that,” Harry insisted.

“Kinda do,” Gemma shrugged, holding up her phone. “Lottie said he just got out of the shower. He’s faffing about deciding on what to wear now. Says he’s nervous.”

Harry blinked slowly, his cheeks pinkening up slightly.

“O-oh,” he murmured.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Lou, they’re here!” Lottie called calmly, letting the net curtain drop back over the front window.

“Fuck, already?” Louis mumbled, getting himself flustered and nearly falling down the stairs in his rush to get to the door. “That was a very quick ten minutes, Lotts.”

“I never mentioned time at all,” Lottie protested. “I just said ‘soon’ – you quantified it as ten minutes all by your lonesome self.” She rolled her eyes at his glare. “But you’d best have your shit together; they’re on the doorstep.”

The words had barely left her mouth before the doorbell rang and Louis’ eyes locked almost fearfully on the door.

“Fuck,” he murmured under his breath, as he slowly took the three steps to the door.

He swallowed hard before he flicked the lock and pulled it open, immediately meeting Harry’s steady gaze.

“Hello.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ Rebloggable tumblr post to follow ]


End file.
